This is Hannah's fault
by scarfganini
Summary: a group of prompts my friend gave me, currently only two- contents include a talking frog or so, about two dozen pansies, a Tom Riddle crack pairing, and probably more stupid things. have fun.
1. Chose your pairing, add a talking frog

hello.

how are you.

wishing I'd stop wasting your time?

...

oh.

ok. well, then. this (or these, if I submit more in the future) fanfiction(s?) is(are?) courtesy of my friend Hannah, or Lumos Solaria, who gave me the prompt(s?). I'll explain later.

yes, it's Ron and Hermione, and a little Lunitachi, if anybody here read Naruto, said man Luna skips off to is Itachi.

dislcaimer, I own virtually nothing here, AND I TOTALLY MESSED UP THE TIMELINE.

I couldn't for the life of me remember when they were learning silencing charms. Lumos Solaria was telling me it was book five, but if that's true, then I messed up. because not being able to decide what book it was in, I decided that students learn silencing charms in third year. I don't know, leave it be... so that's true for the next five minutes. then you stop reading and it stops being true.

now I'll actually stop wasting your time --;;

--wheeeeee--

"Silencio

"Silencio!"

"Moron."

"Shut up. Silencio, _silencio_!"

"Jerk."

"You old _toad_!" Ron drew a breath to utter a considerably worse hex, but was interrupted by a hypocritical 'what are you doing?' from a girl fiddling with something that looked like floating silly putty.

"Luna." Ron made a little face. "I'm not doing anything."

"Oh. Sorry. It looked like you were about to curse that thing." Luna gestured vaguely towards the large, grumpy looking frog hopping uncomfortably about on a stump. It looked up at her exasperatedly.

"I'm not a thing. I'm a frog."

"Oh," Said Luna again, her eyes widening a bit. "Look, Ron, it talks..."

"I know." Ron said bitterly. "And I can't get it to stop."

"That's simply enough," Luna said. "Hand him here." Ron shrugged, scooped up the unhappy frog and set him roughly in her hand, floating silly putty left to drift towards the lake. Luna pulled her wand out from her robes, pointed it at the frog, gave it a little flick and said "_Silencio_!"

The frog attempted to croak in surprise as the spell washed over him, and then attempted to curse as he found that he couldn't do just that.

Luna set the frog down on the overgrown lawn where she and Ron stood, and he hopped away sulkily.

"You can't do a silencing charm?" Luna said suddenly. "We learned them last year. You're not very good at magic, are you?"

"I can do plenty of magic!" Said Ron indignantly.

"I know you can, I've seen you practicing. You're just not very good."

"Look, are you here to insult me, or what?"

"No," Luna said. "I'm not here to insult you. Where did you come across a talking frog?"

"...Well, it didn't talk when I found it."

"Did it whistle?"

"What?"

"Did it whistle," Luna repeated. Ron just shrugged.

"I dunno. It might've."

"All right." She paused. "Then how come it was talking just now?"

"Well, I charmed it that way, didn't I?"

"I don't know. Did you?"

Ron blinked. "Well yeah, I just said."

"Oh. Okay."

Luna seemed momentarily lost in thought, so Ron turned to leave. It's not as though he wanted to spend an hour pretending he didn't feel awkward. But he was interrupted.

"Why did you charm it?"

"So it would talk."

"Yes, but why did you want it to talk? Do you have dragonpox?"

"Do I have... no... What?"

"Frogs know the cure to dragonpox."

"...Frogs don't know anything but swears."

"No," Luna said, "They know how to cure dragonpox."

Shrug. "Okay."

"Were you trying to practice a silencing charm on it?"

Ron scrutinized Luna's expression for any hint of humor, and upon finding none, shrugged again. "Yeah. I was."

"Because you still don't know how?"

Ron made a face. "I can't help it, I haven't had to use one since we were tested on them. So... well, I forgot. I wasn't ever good at them to begin with," he added. "So it's to be expected, really..."

"You should practice spells regularly," Luna said smartly. "Because sometimes it's harder to relearn things than to learn them in the first place. Daddy was telling me about the-"

"It's ok, Luna, I don't really care."

She gave him a look. "You should. It's important."

"Yeah... yeah, probably. But I don't care."

"Alright." Another pause, and she continued with her interrogation of why Ron had been brandishing his wand at an amphibian. "How come you only remembered now?"

"Eh, Hermione."

"Pardon?"

"Hermione." Ron repeated, reproach coloring his tone. "She asked me to turn off my music because she was reading, and couldn't I listen to it up in the dorm. I didn't feel like getting up, so I tried to silence it, and the spell just..." he mimed a failed attempt, making it seem rather explosive.

Luna had sat down on the stump. "She laughed at you?"

"She scolded me. Derisively."

"So you're practicing now?"

"Yeah." Ron gestured in the direction his frog had hopped off to. "I caught that down by the lake. But it wouldn't croak or anything, so I just... charmed it into talking, so I could provoke it or something."

"It did seem a bit miffed, didn't it..." Luna trailed off, as though she'd only just realized this. She might have. "So you were practicing to impress her?"

Ron spluttered in indignation, and Luna said, "You weren't?"

"No, I wasn't, I don't care what she thinks!"

"Then you probably wouldn't be out here practicing because she told you your wandwork was mediocre."

"It's not mediocre."

"Right." Luna said, as though she were memorizing a particularly complicated incantation. "But if you ask me, you could probably impress her more with this charm." She pulled out her wand, with a smile. "I learned this one," she said, "By myself. It was in the textbook, but no one ever taught it. So I thought I ought to try it."

Ron watched, apprehensive at the potential danger of being in the area as Luna Lovegood performed a charm she'd taught herself.

"_Orchideous_!"

The spell, far from being dangerous, simply produced a full bouquet of deep red carnations. Luna inspected them. "They're always carnations," she said. "I can't ever make them turn out to be something else. I can make them yellow, though," she added.

"Flowers?"

"Yes, do you like them?"

"No- or Yes, I don't care- you want me to give Hermione _flowers_?"

"It's better than vanishing her voice."

"If I show up with a bouquet like that I'll _have_ to silence her, or she'd..." he didn't finish the sentence, as he didn't actually know what she would do, but the meaning didn't change. There was still no way in hell he was showing up in the common room with a bundle of carnations.

Luna was rearranging her bouquet, to no apparent avail, but she seemed pleased. "She'll like them," Luna said. "Most people like flowers."

"Some people."

"You don't?"

"They're fine, but..."

"Flowers ward away darkening bugs."

"...What?"

"The gnats that bring the witching hour."

"Yeah. Yeah, sure, I'll risk being attacked by darky bugs.

"Darkening."

Another pause ensued. Ron was beginning to wonder if he couldn't just leave her standing there. It wasn't particularly nice, but then again, surely she was used to it? She was Loony Luna, people must walk out on her all the time.

"I think you like her," Luna said, as suddenly as she said anything.

"Who likes what?" Ron said, having been paying little attention.

"You and Hermione."

"That may be the stupidest thing you've ever said."

"You shouldn't assume that, Ronald," Luna said seriously, "There's no set way-"

"Look, Luna," Ron interrupted. "I don't like her."

But Luna was looking at something far behind Ron, with obvious interest. "You know," she said, "I think I have to go. Good luck with Hermione." She hopped off the stump and began waltzing down the lawn towards a figure in standard black robes.

"Oi! Luna!"

"Ron?"

"What the hell was the point of that inquisition?"

"Well, that's what friends are supposed to do, right?" she waved exaggeratedly.

"Friends." Ron muttered. "Yes, I'm friends with Loony Luna Lovegood, that'll get me in with the crowd." But he returned the wave, and watched her leave.

And then she was out of sight, and he sat down on the stump she had deserted. He studied his wand. Gave it a flick. "_Orchideous_." He murmured, feeling a little silly.

It didn't give him a bouquet, like Luna's charm had. He didn't get a single carnation. He didn't get a rose, he didn't get a lily, and there wasn't a daffodil in sight. He had a pansy.

That's all his charm had come up with, a pansy. He shrugged. It couldn't be that bad, for a first try.

He spent half an hour on that stump, flicking his wand this way and that, a mild obsession taking him.

"Ron?"

He jumped. "Hermione?"

"What are you doing out here? I thought you were going to meet us in the common room fifteen minutes ago."

"Oh- I was." He jumped up, stumbling slightly over the lace of his trainers. "Sorry. I got caught up."

"Orchideous?" Hermione asked, noting the pansies lying around him. "You've been practicing Orchideous?"

Ron winced a bit. "Well... yeah... I thought I might as well... but all I got were pansies. Couldn't get anything else."

"You should be able to, if you keep trying. See- _Orchideous_!" she flicked her wand, and from the tip burst a medley of violets and begonias and snapdragons and daisies. "There. It's not so hard."

"Oh... wow." Ron looked in amazement at the blooms in Hermione's arms. "Geez, Hermione. How long did you have to practice?"

"I, well..." she blushed a bit. "Not really very long." Ron looked affronted that this had come so easily to her. "It's- it's not that- I had to practice a bit!" Hermione said apologetically. "I..." she looked down at the bouquet she was holding and sighed. "I'm sorry, Ron. I can help you, if you like."

"It's ok." Ron said. "I don't really need to be able to make flowers appear."

"All right, then," Hermione said. "Shall we head back up to the castle?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "Is Harry waiting?"

"Yes, but he's working on McGonagall's essay, so he doesn't need distraction. He'll be fine."

Ron thought otherwise, but didn't say so.

"Hey, Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want these?" Hermione held up the flowers. "I don't know what to do with them now."

"Oh..." Ron shrugged. "Ok." He took them from her, rather clumsily. "Everybody likes flowers, I guess," he mumbled to himself, and if Hermione heard, she didn't say anything.

--magicalpopcorn--

yup. that's it. the third year thing doesn't count anymore.

anyways.

this fanfiction will be made up of prompts Lumos Solaria has given me- she's given me one a week until January sometime xD (note- the chapter title will always be a version of her prompt so you know what I was working with. unless the prompt is too long, in which case I'll just give it to you here. the full prompts for this one was 'chose your poison- er, pairing, and throw in a few talking frogs.')

the Naruto prompts she gives me will be under I Blame Hannah, and I'm planning on submitting any death note work (there is none so far) as 'this is also Hannah's fault'. if you're interested. which you're not. in fact, you're not reading this, because author's notes are not interesting to you. you've just clicked off this page, deciding that my attempt at a Harry Potter fic was pathetic enough that it wasn't even worth a quick review.

be that way, then.


	2. Crack time

hello, faithful readers! and the non-faithful ones, too. I have no way of telling you apart. (I give you the benefit of doubt :3)

you have a reason to break your faith.

yes... yes, I didn't post anything last week.

not only that, but THIS is last week's fanfiction, and I'm posting nothing this week. I haven't written this week's. and now I need to start on next week's. I may never post this week's, actually, I'm considering not. I'll write it though, probably xD. how can I resist?

anyways, I finally post this. the prompt is 'Crack time! write something Tom Riddle/L- yes, L.'

for those of you who don't know L, and are outraged that I post something including Death Note characters in a Harry Potter fan fiction, I apologize most sincerely. the setting and all characters but L are from Harry Potter, you shouldn't get too lost. Feel free to ask any questions.

a disclaimer- I don't own tom riddle. I don't own dumbledore. I don't own L, or Armando Dippet, or Lucius, or his skirt.

Idon'twanttoscreamIdon'twanttoscreamIdon'twanttoscreamIdon'twanttoscreamIdon'twanttoscream

"Professor Dumbledore."

"Headmaster…?"

Professor Armando Dippet sat at his desk, head in hands. "Albus," he said. "You… you are one of the most brilliant minds in the school. No, in the wizarding community. You could be minister of magic someday." He paused, waiting for a response, but Dumbledore just stood, hands clasped, and so he continued.

"Surely… surely you can help. You must have some idea, some vague notion on how to proceed in this situation. It's been two weeks… we've had three attacks, Dumbledore."

"I am aware of the situation, Headmaster."

"Do you know, do you have any idea what's happening? This… this is unheard of."

"I have… an idea."

Dumbledore must have thought Dippet looked overly hopeful, because he shook his head. "It's only a theory. Barely that. I would not advise setting too much store by it, but it is… among the more likely ideas I have come up with."

"I'd like to hear it, all the same…"

"The Chamber of Secrets."

"The Chamber of…?"

"Secrets, yes. It's an old Hogwarts myth- A hidden lair, built in the castle by Slytherin himself, before he left. His intent was to purge the school of those he dubbed unworthy to learn magic. In other words, those of muggle parentage."

"But, Albus… surely, a myth like that, it must be something else."

Dumbledore nodded. "Surely, surely. But you must admit, the students in the hospital wing now are all muggle-born."

"Coincidence only," Dippet said, but he looked a smidge uneasy.

Dumbledore nodded again. "Coincidence is the most likely explanation."

Dippet fell back into his chair. "We have to stop this, coincidence or not. How are we going to keep Hogwarts open if this gets worse?"

"You forget the possibility that this will blow over in a few days, and never be spoken of again."

"Can we really take that risk?"

"No, Armando, we cannot take that risk."

"So I turn to you, Albus. I must ask you, I must beseech you- do you have any notions, theories or ideas on how to stop these mysterious attacks?"

Dumbledore didn't answer immediately. "Well…"

"Yes?"

"You must keep an open mind, Armando. What I am about to suggest has never been done in the history of the wizarding world."

"You make it sound… almost illegal."

"There may very well be laws against it. But when gone about right, it can be pulled off."

Dippet looked pressured and worried. "What are you asking of me, Dumbledore?"

"There is a Detective… a well-known detective, who goes only by a letter."

"A detective? Surely that's not illegal?"

"A muggle detective, Armando."

Dippet stared at Dumbledore as though he'd gone mad. "Have you gone _mad_?"

"You're not the first to wonder."

"Dumbledore, a muggle detective? What good is that, he'll be thwarted at every turn! He'll be no good! Not to mention we'll be breaking the statue of secrecy- it would be impossible to hire him without explaining magic."

"His deductive skills are greater than even mine, Armando. He is incredibly gifted. And as for the dilemma of his lack of magical skill, it so happens that I have with me now..."

"No."

"What?"

"No way. No pulling some conveniently impossible spell out of your robes, that's... that's to convenient! That's so cliché! Stop taking shortcuts, do things right!"

"My dear headmaster, haven't you heard? We're in a fanfiction. That means outrageously convenient things like this..." he drew a small crystal bottle with a black stopper out of his robes "Are allowed."

Dippet eyed the bottle suspiciously. "And what," he said, "Is that."

"This is something I have been working on for some time now, with help from Horace every now and then. It is a potion of my own invention, and it enables a being void of magical powers to temporarily gain just that."

A silence fell.

"That's... that's _possible_?"

"Of course it isn't, Armando," Dumbledore assured him. "This is a fanfiction."

"Does that mean this will all turn out well, no matter how much we mess up?"

"That depends on the author or authoress."

"So no promises?"

"Nothing is predictable today, Armando."

Groan.

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But nonetheless, two days and one attack later, Dumbledore was on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, waiting for the arrival of the detective.

He didn't have to wait long. A long black car pulled up, the windows tinted.

"Are you Dumbledore?"

"I am. May I assume you're the one who calls himself... L?"

"I am."

"Then you've come."

"Well, yes. I thought you'd have figured that out by now."

"Just pleasantries."

"Ah."

"Would you like to accompany me? I think it would be best if we spoke privately."

"I prefer not to show my face. Precaution, merely." (For those of you who are curious, he has not yet come across the Kira case.)

"Ah, but in the... conditions of the case I am asking you to solve, you will be hard-pressed to hide your face. Infact... it may be best if you go undercover."

"Undercover?"

"Let me explain."

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After the debriefing, which I am far too lazy to explain, there was some unrelated ridiculousness, taking place elsewhere. Because the last two pages were very seriously and stressful to write. (I freaked a bit about trying to write Dumbledore.)

"I DON'T WANNA!"

"Put it on, Lucius!"

"That thing looks poisonous, you put it on!"

"Come on, it's just a skirt, besides, I haven't got long hair..."

"Then grow it out! I'm not touching that thing!"

"Narcissi said she'd make out with you if you were wearing a skirt, remember?"

"She was joking! Did you see her face?"

"Oh, just put it on..."

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Meanwhile, in another part of the castle, L was sucking pensively on a sherbet ball and levitating interestingly.

"This is interesting."

"I thought you'd find it so. Now, will you take the case?"

"...Yes."

Dumbledore smiled. "Thank you, L."

"Then you have the... the potion... on you?"

"It's just here. Would you like it now, or with dinner?"

"Does it make a difference?"

"It goes rather well with roast pheasant."

"Now is fine."

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"This..." Dumbledore handed L a thin rod, "Will be your wand. It isn't pre-fitted, as hopefully you won't need it very long, so it may not be as smooth as most wizards' wands, but it should suit your purposes."

L twirled the wand idly- and immediately dropped it, having not expected it to spark.

"That will happen," Dumbledore said."

"Oh..." L muttered, and reached down to pick it up.

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For the next 24 hours or so, sans sleep, Dumbledore was teaching L basic magic. He caught on faster than most wizards, another impossible convenience, but Dumbledore didn't point it out because explaining fanfictions to L would be wasting time. He taught L mostly defensive spells, and a few that his classes would require.

Yes, L was going completely undercover- to have free range across the castle, he needed to have an explanation for being there, and Filch refused to quit. To complicate things some, the teachers weren't being told L was a detective, or even a muggle, either, for the slight chance that they could be behind the attacks as well. How was he going to pull off being a Hogwarts student (not his first year, he was too old), seeing as L had only had one day of training? Creative license.

"Dumbledore?"

"You must address me as 'Professor.'"

"Professor Dumbledore."

"Yes, L?"

"Do I have permission to put cameras around the castle?"

"I don't think I can offer that permission, this is something you should take up with Headmaster Dippet. Hogwarts is protected by many enchantments, as you might have guessed. One of which is the disuse of electronics within it's walls."

"So I'm on this case with no surveillance?" L shoved his thumb in between his lips.

"Not necessarily. You'll have the suits of armor at your command."

"The suits of...?" he lowered his thumb in surprise.

"Armor, yes. They'll keep an eye on the students. You can place them anywhere in the castle, although preferably not the lavatories." Dumbledore winked at L. "There are some things that need to be private."

But L didn't look like he was listening; he was reaching for a chocolate frog that was sitting on the desk accompanied by three of it's kind and staring into the distance.

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Time passed. Three days, to be exact. L had been going through his classes, doing his best not to stand out while actually managing to score well (he is genius.), and watching everybody he could.

Especially Tom Riddle.

Dumbledore had said to keep an eye out for Tom Riddle- and any place to start is a starting point. (Dumbledore had also mentioned the chamber of secrets and a few other notions.) The first day, L spent the majority of the time finding out where Tom riddle was, why he was there if he could find that, and his schedule. He watched other students as well, the ones that acted like they were hiding something, but many turned out to have just hidden an inappropriate magazine in their dorm or snogged their best mate's girlfriend.

The first thing he noticed about Riddle was that he was good-looking. Handsome, even. The second thing he noticed was that Riddle was polite, well mannered as well as good-looking. The third thing he noticed was that Riddle was very clever, very smart. Doing well in his classes. Tom Riddle was the picture of perfection. If he really was behind the mysterious attacks, he wasn't making a single mistake.

He shoved riddle to the back of his mind- while never forgetting him- and continued with anybody who looked the slightest bit suspicious.

And we come to three days later.

He had just been let out of potions, after having made a fairly accurate concoction. (The object of the lesson had been a cleaning solution, and it left L wondering why they didn't just use muggle products, which were more convenient.)

He was walking down the corridor on his way to the great hall for lunch, like most of the students.

But there was that handsome head bobbing in the crowd, walking through a wall. No, it wasn't a wall, it was a door pretending to be a wall. A secret passageway.

L waited until Riddle was out of sight, and followed. Riddle could have a million reasons for going off another direction, but these days he followed anyone who went somewhere different than everybody else. Besides, Riddle was... interesting.

Tailing Riddle proved very difficult.

Which only planted suspicion.

But L stayed hidden. He listened hard for footsteps around the corners to find out where Riddle was headed, and then sneaked after him making less noise then the dead. (He had deserted his shoes three corridors ago.)

Riddle didn't go anywhere too suspicious.

It was:

The bathroom.

L was rather disappointed. He turned to leave, but at that last possibly minute (this is a fanfiction, remember? I have DRAMATIC license.) He realized what was wrong. It was a girl's bathroom.

Oh.

Why was Riddle going into the girl's toilet?

And would he do it again?

L shuffled off to get lunch, making a mental note to station one of the suits of armor outside this lavatory.

There were sandwiches for lunch. (Nom nom)

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L kept watch over Riddle.

The suits of armor had informed him that three times in the next week had riddle gone into the girl's toilet.

And on the days he visited, there were attacks. Once, twice in a day.

L lost all interests in guilty glances in the corridor, and began focusing all his thought towards Riddle.

And with all his eyes on Riddle, he learned things that teachers never saw. He eavesdropped on harsh words and terrible curses and unexpected force. He heard strange hissings, which sounded almost inhuman, and all behind the teacher's backs.

Incredible.

Tom Riddle was opening the chamber of secrets, and attacking all these student... but how...?

So he confronted the student in questions.

"What do you want with me?"

"Just a private word."

"I'm not gay."

L blushed a bit, through his neutral gaze. "Your sexual preference is of no interest to me." (Liar.)

So he led riddle into a hidden corridor- coincidentally, the very corridor he'd followed riddle through the first time he'd seen him disappear into the ladies' room.

"Tom Riddle."

Riddle wrinkled his nose, very slightly, but said nothing.

"Do you know the consequences of your actions?"

"What actions?"

"You've been attacking students."

"_I_ haven't attacked anyone."

"You've been setting loose a basilisk."

Riddle's eyes bugged for a second, and then he regained control. "How did you find out?"

"It wasn't so hard."

"Who are you?"

"L."

Riddle looked at L like he was crazy. L just watched him from beneath his overgrown bangs. "So?" Riddle hissed, finally. "Turn me in, why don't you?"

L didn't answer immediately. Yes, that was his job, this time around. To find who had been paralyzing the students so continuously, and stop them. L studied tom's well-carved features. And he decided he didn't want to turn Riddle in.

"I don't think I will."

"I didn't think you would."

Because, as spontaneous and unprecedented as it is, L had fallen in love with Riddle. Raise your hand if you think this is definitely fanfictionesque.

"And why is that?" L asked.

"You're too scared."

"Scared, is that it?"

"If you aren't scared, you should be." Riddle raised his wand. "I can't let you wander around the school with that information. _Stupefy_!"  
L raised his wand to parry, but failed epically because he lacked Riddle's skill with a wand. (No matter how magical you are, it's difficult to match Tom Riddle's wandpower.)

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L woke up in a dark, damp, drafty stone room. By the state of it, it was under the school. If it was anywhere near the school at all. But, no, how could he have gotten out of the school? Riddle had obviously taken him here to keep him quiet, and he would have been hard-pressed to transport him away from Hogwarts.

The evil wizard in question stepped out of the shadows at that moment, with all the dramatic-ness of a badly made horror film.

"Do you like it?" he asked, in a slippery whisper.

"Not particularly. It's-"

"It's the hidden chamber of my ancestor, my ancestor- Salazar Slytherin himself," Riddle hissed, his voice rising. L tried not to think about how hot he looked.

"The chamber of secrets?"

"The same."

"Then you are setting Slytherin's beast on the students."

"Of course!" thundered Riddle. "Someone must, this school is crawling with filth. And the honor... the great honor has been bestowed upon me. Society will benefit from the changes I plan to make."

"Society will wilt and decompose."

"Only the mudbloods."

The term was unfamiliar to L, (Dumbledore didn't teach him that one) so he kept silent.

"And when it's all over, when there are only noble purebloods left, I shall rule over them all."

"You can rule my body too, if you want."

Riddle just stared at him, and L wondered why he had said that as I (the authoress) suddenly realized that maybe a Yugioh abridged reference wasn't the best thing to put there. Oh well...

"What...?"

"Nothing."

"No, that was a sexual reference."

"Yes, it was."

"Any particular reason?"

Because you're hot. "No."

But, because Riddle is evil and L is adorable and this is a fanfiction, Riddle had his lips over L's before he could finish his single syllable.

L fell over.

"I thought you said you weren't gay."

"I lied."

L didn't turn Riddle in. History played out like it was supposed to, Riddle killed Myrtle and framed Hagrid, sealed his horcrux into his evil notebook, and graduated sixth year. He spent the summer in Hawaii with L, who somehow was able to keep his memories from his brief Wizarding experience. But, as we all know, Voldemort loves no one and never has, so he quickly dumped L- wiped his memory and left the islands to return to Hogwarts. (He was just in it for the sex.)

The two men went on with their separate stories, and the only record that any of that had ever happened was Dumbledore. Who hadn't missed a beat.

The end.

butI'vegotsomuchunsaidleftinsideofmebutI'vegotsomuchunsaidleftinsideofmebutI'vegotsomuchunsaidleftinsideofme

um... yeeeeeeah. that could have been done better.

-sigh-

oh well. ok, that's what I've written... I really hope you enjoyed it, even though the whole thing reeked of bad fan fiction.


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